


low enough

by sibley (ferns)



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Episode: s01e10 Brainwave Jr., F/M, Introspection, Loss of Trust, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferns/pseuds/sibley
Summary: Alone in the basement, Barbara tries to piece together the story of what'sreallygoing on. The conclusions she comes to are painful.
Relationships: Pat Dugan/Barbara Whitmore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	low enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hedgi said something before the episode aired about how Barb would assume Pat only got close to her and Courtney because of a perceived connection to Starman and... well... that wasn't exactly _disproven._
> 
> [ **CW:** this work contains non-graphic references to past child neglect, briefly implied domestic abuse (not physical), toxic relationships, perceived physical child abuse, perceived stalking, perceived gaslighting, and betrayal of trust.]

Barbara thought she was prepared for everything.

The house was old, but it had been inspected and deemed earthquake safe before they moved in. Tornados weren’t common in the area but the basement was large and could comfortably house all of them if necessary. Blue Valley was considered to be overall a safe place to live with low crime rates, but she’d bought extra locks for all the doors and windows anyway. The house should’ve been easy to evacuate in case of a fire or a sudden flash flood or any other natural disaster. She was supposed to be _prepared._

Standing alone in the dim basement, she realizes this is something she never could’ve predicted.

It’s just… it’s too much. All the old pictures… Some of them she actually recognizes, like the ones of Mike and his parents when he was a few days old. Those ones she knew were down here supposedly in storage. Most of them, however, are new, with faces she doesn’t recognize. She can’t help but flip through a handful, like that’ll help ease her confusion. 

A kid in star-covered pajamas beaming up at the camera and hugging onto a girl about his age dressed in the same white and blue color scheme. A woman with red hair posing with a museum display about the god Ra. Pat rolling his eyes at the same kid from before, the one who _apparently_ grew up to be Starman, while said kid stuck his tongue out at him.

She feels nauseous.

Courtney doesn’t remember Sam much. She can see _why_ she’d think him and this “Starman” guy were the same person, all things considered. If she tilts her head and squints they do look similar. And since she was so young the last time she saw him, her brain must’ve filled in the gaps between that faded photograph in her locket and the guy grinning up at her from the photos.

Courtney doesn’t remember the tension when Sam came over. She doesn’t remember how careful Barbara was to never leave her alone with him when she was a baby. She doesn’t remember how he’d yell at Barbara for random things until she kicked him out again and again and again. She doesn’t remember how many times the police showed up looking for Sam after he got in trouble again—credit card scams, destruction of property, ATM robberies, the like.

All Courtney could remember was the guy who came to visit once a year and never did a damn thing for either of them. The day he disappeared from their lives had been one of the best days of Barbara’s life. It wasn’t like he was contributing monetarily to them in any way. Yes, once upon a time, she really had loved him, but it was his own fault he’d ruined it.

And now…

Now Courtney’s deluded herself into believing that her dad was a superhero. No—now _Pat_ has deluded her into believing that her dad was a superhero.

A long time ago, Barbara had promised herself that she wouldn’t bring anyone into Courtney’s life if there was a chance of them hurting her. She was her baby girl. For a long time it had just been the two of them. Even when she’d started dating again after they were a little more financially sound, none of it had felt permanent. She’d eventually stopped after one of them had shown a clear disinterest in Courtney’s wellbeing to the point of locking her in her room so she couldn’t bother them. _Nothing_ was more important to her than her daughter’s safety.

She’d really thought Pat was different.

None of the signals had been there with Mike. He had been outgoing and relatively cheerful from the second she’d met him, if a little wary and a touch resentful of her the way lots of younger kids would be to a perceived “replacement” in their parent’s lives. He’d been clearly healthy and uninjured and judging by how he’d spent half his time ribbing Pat for various things he wasn’t afraid of his dad in the slightest. That had been a good sign. 

She’d kept an eye on him with Courtney, those first few meetings. But he’d never yelled at her no matter how hostile she was to him or how much she implied that she didn’t think he’d last any longer than Barbara’s previous boyfriends. He didn’t slam doors or talk down to her or drag her in and out of rooms. Those had all been good signs, too. He’d seemed safe.

So Barbara had let herself fall in love again and hope that everything would work out okay. For once, maybe everything would be alright.

Now here she is. Standing in a dark basement crawling with spiders and centipedes. Surrounded by artifacts of a life she didn’t even know her husband had lived. Trying to come to terms with the knowledge that he’d dragged Courtney into danger over and over again. Convinced her that her dad was a superhero. Made her think all of this was a good idea. _Hurt_ her.

What else could he have done to her?

It makes her feel even more sick to her stomach to imagine Pat hurting Courtney himself. For a minute her mind goes too far down that rabbit hole. Those cuts on Courtney’s face when she said she’d fallen down the basement stairs, an excuse too familiar for comfort. The not-car-accident with the lacerations down her hands that could have come from shielding her face. The scrapes on her knees where she claimed she’d skinned them running after the bus but could’ve gotten them just as easily from being pushed. 

Of course Courtney wouldn’t tell _her_ about it. She trusted Pat, like Barbara stupidly had. He evidently made Courtney feel special, and wasn’t _that_ a familiar story, too? He already made her think her father was—

He said he had been Starman’s sidekick. Her hands feel cold. Sam _wasn’t_ Starman. He couldn’t have been. But Courtney thinks he is. Was. Pat thinks he was, too. It was too perfect, wasn’t it? Both ending up in the same small town, in the same diner, ordering the same thing, finding out they lived only a few miles from each other back in California… Barbara closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

The formerly glowing stick thing is still lying on the floor. She walks carefully over to it and nudges it nervously with her toe before bending down to pick it up. It doesn’t start glowing again, even as she turns it over and traces two fingers down over the grooves that end just before the base. 

Starman’s staff. Pat had been Starman’s sidekick. He thinks Courtney is, improbably, Starman’s daughter. It _had_ been too perfect. The same small town. The same diner. Ordering the same thing. Finding out they’d only lived a few miles from each other. There were just too many coincidences. Too many perfect acts of chance.

Pat thinks Courtney is Starman’s daughter. He had been Starman’s sidekick. How far would someone like that go to keep clinging to keep clinging to the past? How long had he been watching their family before making his move?

She should’ve noticed sooner. Courtney had been acting strange since they moved, but she’d thought it was just because of the unfamiliarity of this new place with its new people. That was when the injuries had started, too. And the move to Blue Valley—it had been for her, because of her job, and because she’d grown up there and had connections to it. Hadn't it? Could he have planned that, too? Or had he just taken advantage of the automatic isolation to make a move?

And now, with Jordan, and Courtney being suddenly convinced that _he’d_ been the one to murder her father—no. Not her father, the man she _thought_ was her father, because Sam Kurtis was not Starman and never had been, nor was he dead as far as she knew. Why? What could Pat possibly get out of that? What was the _point?_ Was it just because he’d been showing her some favoritism at work?

Her mind circles back to wondering what else he could’ve done without her noticing. Her gut clenches when she thinks about Courtney, new in town with no friends and no one to tell if her stepfather suddenly started hurting her. Or worse.

Barbara doesn’t want to think he would do something awful to her. The Pat she thought she knew wouldn’t do something like that. He was kind and funny and extraordinarily awkward. He was a good man. She wants to believe he still is. 

But good men don’t do _this_ to people. Manipulate them. Hurt them. Potentially stalk them. Especially not to children. So evidently the real Patrick Dugan is not the man she knew. He isn’t the man she’d married. He isn’t the man she loved.

Barbara drops the staff. She half expects it to float to the ground like it’s made of paper, but instead it just clatters on the floor. Somehow, it sounds accusing. Like _she’s_ the one in the wrong here, not Pat, who forced her daughter to carry on some ancient superheroic vendetta. 

She might still love Pat. Or—she definitely still loves him, under the sting of betrayal. But that will fade. It has to. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let anybody hurt Courtney. Her safety was to be put above all else. She’d been stupid, letting her guard down with Pat. Thinking that just because nothing had happened by the time they got engaged it wasn’t going to ever.

Courtney’s safety always comes first.

So Barbara takes a deep breath, goes upstairs, and starts making plans to sell the house and contact a divorce lawyer.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Barb _is_ wrong, but she's also pretty much completely justified in thinking the way she does because of how she hasn't been told the full truth for literally years. I'd be upset too! Especially because it would mean my daughter was in danger! Just because she's wrong about what's going on doesn't mean she has no reason to think so.
> 
> I'm @augustheart on tumblr.


End file.
